“Pull at your heels?”
“Yes, it’s like a chimney laid on its side, and I’m quite stuck fast.”
“Oh!” cried the middy; and then, “All right, I’m coming.”
“No, no, don’t!” came to him in smothered tones, as he began to climb; “I’ve got room again. Coming back.”
There was a good deal of shuffling and scraping, and then Aleck’s feet came into the light over the top of the block. The next minute he was on his feet beside his companion, hot, panting, and with the front of his clothes wet.
“There’s a tiny stream comes trickling in there,” he said, brushing himself down softly; “but there isn’t room for a rat to get any further than I did. My word, it was tight! I felt as if the water had made me swell out, and it didn’t seem as if I was going to get back.”
“Phew!” whistled the middy. “We should have been worse off then. I say, Aleck, you’d have had to starve for a few days to get thin, and then I could have pulled you out. Here, I say, though, old fellow, I’m not going on the grump any more; things might be worse, eh?”
“Ever so much,” said Aleck, cheerfully. “Let’s have a good drink now, and then go and examine some of those barrels. If one of them turns out salt beef or pork we’ll go back and finish our stores, for we shall be all right for provisions.”
“Without counting the fish I mean to catch. I’m sure there’ll be some come in with the tide.”
“Very foolish of them if they do,” said Aleck, wiping his mouth after lying down to take a long deep draught, in which action he was imitated by his companion. “Now, then, I want to be satisfied about flour and meat.”